


Meet the Amazing Tracker

by Alex_of_Asgaard



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: help me, i dont know what im doing, reader - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-01
Updated: 2015-12-01
Packaged: 2018-05-04 07:42:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5326148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alex_of_Asgaard/pseuds/Alex_of_Asgaard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You gripped your chest in shock, turning around slowly. You looked down, your already red uniform turning a deep crimson. </p><p>"You...bastard..." you gasped out, dropping to your knees."</p><p>This is my first time writing anything like this so please be kind. But constructive criticism is welcomed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Trouble in Teufort

**Author's Note:**

  * For [med1232001](https://archiveofourown.org/users/med1232001/gifts).



Heavy footsteps down a long hall.

Yelling. 

Panic.

This was all you could register as you hastily pulled on your one sleeved black leather jacket, neglecting in your haste to button it.

You had been surprised by the BLUs before but something was different today. The air of determination you had felt from your superiors in previous battles was replaced with one of panic and worry.

Through the chaos you spotted the engineer, cursing under his breath. Unlike the rest of the team he wasn't rushing to prepare for a battle but instead he was working on the wiring in the walls of the respawn room, instantly making your heart sink.

"What happened?" You asked, the break in your voice revealing the fact that you already knew the answer

The engineer cursed as a wire sparked and he wiped his brow, "damn BLUs...they broke the respawn last night...betcha it was that damn BLU snake..." he grumble angrily. 

"And that means...?" 

He got quiet. 

"...don't die...not until respawns fixed...it'd be real...permanent..."

you let out a shaky breath. Permanent death? The notion had become foreign to you. The idea that the slightest mistake could mean you were gone. Forever. Or worse, you could lose a teammate. A careless mistake would cost the life of a friend. Of someone who had been your family for the last two years of your life...oh god...

You shakily loaded your pistol, surveying the room. The soldier seemed to be the only mercenary not terrified for his life, though the respawn was never a crutch for him, merely a convenience. The medic looked like he had just run a Marathon and heavy, the brick wall of the team, was trying to comfort him and scout. Spy took a long, shaky drag from his cigarette. Demo had two bottles in his hands, head thrown back, holding a third between his teeth. The sniper was polishing his aviators as even the pyro seemed to understand the severity of the situation, holding its ballonicron tightly and lighting its matches with a solemn air that might have been only in your head.

You took a deep breath, only half listening to the soldiers "inspirational" speech. You felt a gloved hand on your shoulder, turning to see the pyro's mask 

"Hey,bud" 

it gave you a nod. 

"Are you OK?" 

It nodded again, pointing at you and cocking its head. 

You gave a small nod, "yeah, I'm fine...I just--" you were cut off by the voice of the administrator over the loud speaker, "BLU spy in base, BLU tracker in base, BLU scout in base." 

You let out a long sigh, standing and cocking your pistol. You gave the pyro a look and it nodded back to you. You took another deep breath and brought out your track-o-tron. You heard the soldier shout and you launched yourself forward, the pyro close behind.


	2. BLUs in the Base

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK it was too short. I fixed it. Yay.  
> If you read it when it was first posted please read again 'cause some stuff happens this time.

The sound of yours and the Pyros boots echoed through the erie silence that had befallen the R.E.D. base as you carefully patrolled the halls. You stopped dead in your tracks as you heard a third set of foot steps approaching.

You ducked behind the corner and drew a deep breath, looking back at the Pyro, who was pressed against the wall behind you.

"On three." You mouthed, the Pyro giving a slightly unsure nod.

"One...two...three" you sprang out from behind the corner with your pistol aimed and the pyro close behind.

You heard an embarrassingly high pitched scream and you sighed in relief, seeing that the Scout was sporting the trademark color of your own team.

"the hell is wrong with you!? You're supposed to point that damn thing at B.L.U.s, genius!" The Scout nearly shouted. "Almost gave me a freaking heart attack..."

You rolled you eyes, quickly losing patients with him. "What are you doing here anyway? Me and Pyro are checking this area."

He hesitated for a second, "Soldier sent me. Engineer had some sentries up but they got sapped. He needs mumbles for some spy checks."

The Pyro gave a slight nod and looked to you. This would be the first time you were on your own during a mission, and it was during the most dangerous time in Teuforts history.

You gave a sharp nod. "Go. I'll be fine. I can--"

You were cut off by the Pyro wrapping you in a bone-crushing hug. You gasped in a large breath when he finally let you go, running to catch up to the Scout, who had already left.

Well, you thought, death is permanent, you're on your own, and there's a B.L.U. spy in the vicinity of the only man that knows how to fix the magic machine that makes death about as inconvenient as a five minute stomach bug. Things couldn't possibly get any worse.

"B.L.U. Sniper in base."

God. Damnit.

You let out a groan. A Sniper. Great. Just fan-freaking-tastic! The Sniper was annoying. Or he was normally, but today a well placed bullet wouldn't be something you could walk off.

It crossed your mind to just hide out in a broom closet until Engie fixed the respawn, but you brushed the idea away. You'd rather die a hero then at the hand of some B.L.U. ass-hat clearing out his newly claimed base.

You pull out your track-o-tron. A special number Engie had whipped up just for you. You sighed.

"Useless." You didn't like dising Engie's work but you did have to get a tracking device onto someone before they appeared on the little radar. And at the moment you didn't want to get within a mile of anyone sporting the color blue, let alone close enough to tag them with a tracking plant.

You did have a special gun that could shoot out the small, sticky gobs of red goop and machinery, and subtle traps that could launch the stuff onto boots without the host being any the wiser, but, even if you got the thing on someone it didn't seem like the best idea to go running after said someone when you had no backup. You usually had the Pyro or someone with you. The Scout had teased you before, calling you a "hunting dog" or "tracking hound" but now...you really felt like some dog sent to track a bear with no hunter behind you.

Footsteps. Oh God. You turned on a dime, pistol pointed at the the hall in front of you.

The steps grew louder. You tightened your grip on your gun.

Louder. You ghost your finger over the trigger.

Louder. You line up the sights so they hit just passed the corner.

Louder. You hold your breath.

Pyro. R.E.D. you drop the pistol to your side, Expecting him to come see if your ok, but he just runs passed, not even glancing Down the hall you stood in. You run to catch up with him.

"Pyro! Bud!"

He turned around, cocking his head curiously.

"Are you OK? Did you get the Spy? What hap--"

He put a gloved finger to your mouth, silencing you before he turned and started off again. Again you followed, slowing to stay next to him once you caught up.

"Mind if I stick with you?"

He shook his head and you let out a relieved sigh.

"You heard the B.L.U. Sniper is here, yeah?" You asked, trying to break the stressful silence between the two of you.

He nodded, falling slightly behind.

"Hey, are the com systems down? Why didn't Soldier just radio in?"

He shrugged

You brought your finger up to your ear piece, pushing the small button. "Hey, it's Tracker. Everyone OK?"

You sighed as you heard a thick German accent through the little speaker. At least the Medic's alright. That meant a bullet in the gut wasn't a complete death sentence.

" Tracker? Gut. Everything clear Fräulein?"

" Yeah, I got Pyro with me. How about over there?"

"Not well. Herr Sniper found the Scout nearly dead."

You froze.

" Wh...what?"

"Don't worry, I've got him. He should be alright soon. Looks like it was a Spy though. Be careful."

"...Spy?"

"Ja. If you see our scout don't hesitate to shoot."

"But I--"

You felt a leather glove on your shoulder followed quickly by a sharp stabbing pain in your chest. You gasped, but it came out quiet and strangled.

"Fräulein? What was that? Frau Tracker? (Y/N)!"


	3. Drowning in darkness

You felt the gloved hand slip from your shoulder and you gripped your chest in shock, turning around slowly. You looked down, your already red uniform tuning a deep crimson.

"You...bastard..." you gasped out, dropping to your knees.

You looked up, seeing, of course, the B.L.U. Spy smiling down at you. You grit your teeth, attempting to show your rage through your pained expression, but you're interrupted by a violent cough that sends a splatter of blood across the floor. When you glanced back up his smile had disappeared.

"You got blood on my shoe, cher."

You were about to say something along the lines of "good" or "I'm glad" but again your attempt at going proudly to your demise was cut off. This time by a finely crafted dress shoe to the mouth, sending you to your back on the cold floor of the base.

You heard him laugh when you brought up your hand to muffle the pained scream that triggered another violent cough.

You felt his shoe pressing against your throat, cutting off your air supply. You scratched and pulled at his leg desperately, though you had no strength left to effect him in the slightest. He let out another sickening laugh.

"Au Revoir, Mon cher."

The edge of your vision started to turn black and the Spys laugh sounded distant and muffled but you didn't feel the pins and needles in your chest that promised a splitting headache, nausea, and most importantly, life. The respawn was still broken.

Tears stung the corners of your eyes. This was it. You were going to die here, in a puddle of your own blood, with a sadistic Frenchman pressing his $200 heel into your windpipe.

You felt the tears roll down your cheeks as You pulled at his leg, forcing out a strangled plea for mercy. But he was a trained killer. He had heard all the sob stories, every noise one could make to appeal to his humanity had been tried and had failed.

You wonder if it had worked in an unintended way as he puts more pressure on your throat, effectively silencing you and allowing you to keep what ever dignity you had left.

You couldn't die like this. You were young, talented, well-trained. You screamed about how unfair it was, but only in your head. Your arms dropped from the leg of your attacker. The rest of your vision fading. You screamed and cried within the confines of you mind.

you cursed the Spy for doing his job, you cursed the engineer for not fixing the respawn in time, you cursed the Pyro for trusting the Scout, you curse the letter from R.E.D. and the paycheck that made you take the damn job. You try to think of anyone but yourself to blame for this situation but your mind goes blank and dark before you can. 

You hear pounding footsteps. The floor underneath you rushing by. You're draped over someone's shoulder. You look down, seeing the broad back of a bulletproof vest. Before you can make sence of the situation you lose consciousness again.

Bright. Hazy and bright. Blindingly bright. All you can see is a blinding light aimed straight in your eyes. For a moment you wonder if this is the great beyond, did you really qualify for heaven? Or could this just be a stop on the way to your... final destination?  
Thoughts of angels and damnation quickly fade from your mind as the light is pushed away by a red rubber glove and for the fist time in your stay at Teufort you are relieved to wake up in the good Doctors medbay.

"she's alive! And after 13 hours! That's a new record!"

You'd normally be appalled by that outburst but it was, of course, the Medic, who had just saved your life. You tried to sit up, using your elbows as support but you were quickly pushed back down.

"Nein. You must rest." The Medic spoke softly but with enough authority to tell you that disobedience was out of the question.

You begrudgingly complied, laying back in the bed. You watched the Medic scribble something down on his clipboard as he pulled up a chair to sit at your bedside. He brought up a hand to your neck, inspecting it carefully. You winced as it lit up with pain at the slight contact.

"Verzeihung." He looked genuinely sorry which was very different from the hollow apologizes he'd given you in the past. Before you could consider what may have changed you remembered the dire situation you were in before the glorious sight of the med bay had so warmly welcomed you.

"...thank you..." you force back a pained scream. You had whispered the phrase so softly and carefully yet it still set your throat ablaze.

"Don't try to talk, Fräulein. Your windpipe is very badly bruised. And don't thank me, it is because of the Heavy that you are living now."

You gave the doctor a questioning look. How had the Heavy saved you? He picked up on this and decided to explain.

" When your communicator cut out we all assumed the spy had gotten you. A few of the others, who have requested to remain unnamed, suggested that I focus on more important teammates in need of healing. If not for Heavy you probably would be dead."

The last sentence made your skin crawl, mainly because of how casually he had said it. No more emotion in his voice the if he had been discussing the weather. The Heavy had asked you before not to hold the Medics less than perfect bedside manner against him but it was hard at points.

the Medic rose and returned with a syringe of clear liquid. The length of the needle brought a rush of nausea that forced you to clench your eyes shut and focus on the gentle cooing of the bird you had only just noticed had nested itself besides your pillow.

You paniced for a moment from the painfully familiar dulling of your senses but eventually gave into the effects of the drug. Still trying to hold onto the fading cooing accompanied by muttering of a language you faintly recognize as German.


	4. From the Other's Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A look at the events of the past few chapters from the eyes of the BLU Tracker! Something I really wanted in this for those who prefer the BLUs. Their personalities aren't the same as the REDs, for the most part they are a bit less insane but there are other things. BLU Sniper is socially awkward instead of antisocial/ introverted, the BLU Engie tries to be equally as friendly to everyone he meets. (except REDs) whereas the RED Engie doesn't dislike strangers, but you two better be on at lest a first name basis before expecting any favors. Things like that.

RED base, day of attack.

You sat silently next to the the Spy as he went over the plan for a final time with the Scout and Engineer on the comm line

" Y'all got their respawn down, right?"

"Oui."

"Great. Scout, you remember the plan, right?"

The Scout rolled his eyes, "Yeah, Yeah. Stay quiet and if Spy and Tracker get caught create a diversion."

"Good. Tracker?"

You scrambled to remember. "I...umm..."

You hear him sigh through your communicator, "you go ahead of Spy, tag anyone you see, and send him the coordinates.

"Yes sir..."

You sigh, trying to clear your mind. OK. Its not that hard. Tag anyone you see, send the info to Spy. Simple.

"If anything goes wrong we'll send in Sniper."

The Spy looked back to you and you nod.

"Oui." He clicked the button on his earpiece and signalled for you to go. You nodded and rounded the corner soundlessly

You wandered the halls of the enemy base, tracking gun at the ready. You were assured by the Engineer that at least some REDs would be stupid enough to just be roaming the halls but after nearly 20 minutes of searching you hadn't seen a soul.

"I wonder if Engie'd mind if I just camped out in a broom closet 'till we win..." you asked yourself. You eyes snap away from the bit of space in front of you that you had staring blankly at when you hear two sets of footsteps approaching. You quickly press yourself against the rough wooden boards that form the walls of the base. 'Primitives' you sneer silently. You press your ear closer the the rickety wall, they had stopped and a muffled conversation started, you took the opportunity to find out who you were up against.

" So they've finally brought out their tracker. About time, took them a whole year more then us." You cringed. Its their Tracker. "...y...you don't think she's better trained than me now...?" You heard a muffled (well, more so.) Reassurance followed by a short "thanks Py."

A Pyro? You shuddered, imaging the blank emotionless stare you had been given your fist day and every day since that whenever you see your own Pyro. Everyone on the team was freaked out by him. Why did RED get the sane Pyro!? 

You shift silently to draw your tracking gun as the two REDs continued on their way, the Tracker laughing slightly and you hear her cock her pistol. "Well, its her first mission. We can take her. Tell me, do you get a rush or just nauseated from shooting yourself in the head?" The Pyro let out a hearty but muffled laugh slapping her on the back. You can see she stumbles forwards from the force, letting out a laugh of her own as she gives him a quick punch on the arm as payback. You feel envy claw at your chest, wishing you could be that friendly with any of your own. But you were the team screw up. Even the lighthearted, morale coach of the group, the Engineer, could barely stand you... You grit your teeth. You hated her...she was just like you but more confident...more competent... an exact copy except for the bit about being better than you in every way you could think of. You shoot a small blue tracker onto your RED doppelgangers heel, quickly and quietly backing away so you were no longer in danger of being seen. You smirked proudly as the sounds of footsteps faded out. 

You pulled out your track-o-tron, quickly sending the info to the Spy along with a short message.

"RED Tracker. Make it hurt."

**Author's Note:**

> OK, so you decided to read this. Thank you! Im not 100% sure what I'm doing...I'm thinking of maybe making this an x reader? Maybe you all can tell me which class you'd like to see reader be with?  
> I hope you enjoyed this and will enjoy future chapters.


End file.
